


The Overheard One

by LulaIsAKitten



Series: Freudian Slips [2]
Category: Cormoran Strike Series - Robert Galbraith
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 00:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 664
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23066212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LulaIsAKitten/pseuds/LulaIsAKitten
Summary: For Flanker27_UK, for the prompt “How about some sort of conversation with Shanker where Cormoran’s praising Robin without realising she’s standing behind him?”
Relationships: Robin Ellacott/Cormoran Strike
Series: Freudian Slips [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1645858
Comments: 14
Kudos: 50





	The Overheard One

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Flanker27_UK](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Flanker27_UK/gifts).



“..so I need you to keep an eye on her,” Strike finished firmly. Shanker glared at him through the fug of cigarette smoke that hung over Strike’s desk between them. Two empty whisky glasses sat to one side of the open file they were discussing.

“She won’t come to no ’arm with me,” Shanker retorted, his eyes flashing menacingly at the mere thought of anyone hurting Robin.

Strike raised a sceptical eyebrow. “You took her into the the home of a child rapist last time.”

“Oi!” Shanker looked indignant. “I didn’t take ’er! I just...followed.”

“You didn’t exactly stop her.”

Shanker grinned, his gold tooth flashing. “She wa’n’t stoppable, mate. She was going anyway. I only went along to keep ’er safe.”

Strike sighed. He knew as well as Shanker that his business partner was quite determined once she got the bit between her teeth, especially when it came to looking out for someone vulnerable. All the more reason to send his slightly shady associate with her as backup. This particular assignment might require stealth and swift movement, neither of which were Strike’s forte.

He’d tried to think of other ways to achieve their aim, but Robin was the only one who’d be able to talk herself over the threshold of the elderly woman they were trying to protect, to find out if her drug-addict son was indeed helping himself to her savings as her niece suspected. He could hardly send Shanker alone to try to charm the old lady, she’d be terrified. As it was, Shanker was going to have to wait in the car, listening in to the microphone Robin would be wearing, ready to go to her rescue if the son turned up.

Strike was deeply unhappy about the plan. There was too much potential for things to go wrong, for Robin to be hurt before Shanker could get there. But the two of them had overridden him. Robin and Shanker, against all expectations given their polar opposite lives and upbringings, worked well together and genuinely got along. Shanker would never admit it, but he was deeply fond of “your Robin”, as he insisted on calling her despite Strike’s scowl.

“Just...don’t let her get hurt.”

Shanker’s gaze softened almost imperceptibly. “I won’t.”

Then he grinned. “She won’t get ’urt,” he went on. “She’s bloody good at this stuff.”

“I know. She’s the best I’ve got. I can’t afford to lose her.”

Shanker sniggered. “Yeah, _that’s_ why I’ve got to keep ’er safe.”

Strike glared. “I have a duty as her employer to ensure her safety at work,” he retorted a little stiffly.

Shanker’s grin broadened. “That too.”

“That’s all this is.” Strike’s voice contained a clear note of warning.

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Shanker—”

“All right!” The smaller man threw up his arms. “I’ll look after ’er.” He stood, leaning forward to stub his cigarette out in the ashtray on Strike’s desk. “I’ll swing by in the morning, yeah?”

Strike hauled himself to his feet too, and stuck out a hand. “Yup. Cheers.”

The two men shook hands, and Shanker turned away, quiet and light on trainered feet. “See ya tomorrow.”

Strike nodded. “See you.”

Shanker reached for the connecting door which stood ajar, pushed to but not closed. He pulled it open and stepped through, and grinned across at Robin’s back as she peered into the filing cabinet behind her desk.

“Robin. Thought you’d gone ’ome.”

Robin turned, her cheeks pink. “I had. Came back for a file.”

Shanker nodded. “I’ll pick you up about ten?” He wondered why she looked flustered.

“Great, thanks,” Robin said briskly, a file in her hand, and Shanker nodded again and left, his quiet steps swiftly fading to silence even on the clanky metal stairs.

Robin cast a glance at the door leading through to Strike’s office, and a smile pulled at the corners of her mouth. Heart fluttering, she stuffed the file into her bag and followed Shanker more slowly down the stairs.


End file.
